


step into christmas with me

by spilled_notes



Category: Holby City
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:55:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 7,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21747901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spilled_notes/pseuds/spilled_notes
Summary: Assorted ficlets for Berena Advent 2019, set in a variety of my previous AUs. Think of it like a selection box, only instead of containing familiar chocolate bars it contains additions to familiar fics.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 43
Kudos: 143
Collections: Berena Advent 2019





	1. faith, hope and gluttony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in my Harry Potter crossover AU, [it is always in your darkness that the stars start to appear](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11421102/chapters/25587147). Because the potential future I wrote about [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12373062/chapters/51776059) has since become my headcanon... 
> 
> Prompt: feast. Minerva invites Bernie and Serena (with baby Harry in tow) to the Christmas feast at Hogwarts, after the war is finally over. Gluttony isn’t going to fix things – but full stomachs aren’t a bad place to start.

This time it’s Serena’s turn to be rendered speechless on setting foot inside a school hall. Christmas decorations at Beauxbatons were always elegant, but here, at Hogwarts? There’s so much greenery, so many trees, so many twinkling candles and enchanted icicles, it’s almost like the snowy forest has been brought inside.

She’s broken from her wonder by Hagrid, striding towards them between tables and students.

“Arry!’ he cries, arms outstretched.

Harry squirms, and Serena barely manages to keep hold of him as he reaches towards Hagrid. He squeals in delight as the half-giant gently takes hold of him and begins to coo, walking over to the nearest Christmas tree and letting Harry touch the shimmering decorations.

Bernie steps closer and Serena leans into her a little, glances at her to see her eyes filled with sparkling light and nostalgia.

‘Glad we accepted Min’s invitation?’ Serena asks quietly.

‘Mm,’ Bernie hums in reply.

And then Serena notices her gaze has shifted from the decorations to the long tables – tables which were bare of food just a moment ago, but are now crowded with turkeys and all the trimmings, and bowls mounded with the crispest looking roast potatoes she’s ever seen.

‘I take it this is the origin of your bottomless pit of a stomach?’ she teases.

‘Wait ‘til you taste it,’ Bernie murmurs, and Serena can see her plotting what she’s going to heap onto her golden plate first.

*

They sit with Minerva and Annie, both happy to relinquish the messy task of feeding Harry to Hagrid, who’s never looked happier than he does bouncing the toddler on his knee. Bernie looks around the hall, her gaze passing over each of the students who’s stayed at Hogwarts for the holiday. There are far more of them than usual, more than she ever remembers staying when she was as school. She wonders how many of them are orphans, like Harry, how many have nowhere else to go, how many have no family other than this. Serena lays a hand on her knee under the table, and when Bernie looks at her she knows Serena is thinking the same.

‘They’ll be alright,’ Serena says, quiet enough that no one else can hear above the hubbub of cutlery and conversation, but with such conviction that Bernie can’t help but believe her.

And then she looks along the table of staff and other guests from the Ministry, the Order, St. Mungo’s, every one of whom helped to protect these students and their community during the long war, and realises why they’re all here. It’s because that job isn’t over just because the war has ended. Because each and every one of them is determined to rebuild their world, whatever it takes.

There’s a delighted shriek from the other end of the table, and Bernie smiles to see Harry reaching wildly for an enchanted stuffed dragon Minerva is directing to fly in circles around his head.

 _Yes,_ she thinks, gripping Serena’s hand, still resting on her knee. _We can build something new from this rubble._

And then she spears another potato on her fork and bites through the crisp shell.

_Feasting together isn’t a bad way to start._


	2. we kissed on a corner then danced through the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in my [Discworld assassins AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15704667). Prompt: dance. The Hogswatch ball a year later, and this time Serena does get to dance with Bernie.

Serena is as glad as ever to be released from Mr Wood’s arms when the dance ends. He’s dull as dishwater, although the news that she’s taking contracts again has clearly spread through society, and his hands wander significantly less this Hogswatch Eve than they usually do.

She turns her back on the dance floor, busies herself with a fresh glass of champagne and projects her best aura of not wanting to be bothered. She’s done her round of the hall and guests for the night, charmed more than her fair share of donations from Ankh’s upper echelons. Now she deserves to have some fun herself, to dance with someone she actually wants to dance with. But a sweep of the room leaves her disappointed: there’s no sign of Bernie anywhere.

‘I saw her slip out a few minutes ago,’ Raf murmurs, his approach behind her almost silent beneath the music and chatter.

Serena flashes him a grateful smile, puts her half empty glass down and heads for the courtyard.

 _She’d better not be on the roof,_ she thinks, shivering a little as the frigid night air hits bare skin. _Because there’s no way I’m climbing the walls in this dress._

Serena follows the single line of footsteps in the snow that are not leading from the gates to the main doors, follows them across the quad until they stop at the wall. She silently curses, steps back and cranes her neck but knows it’s futile.

‘I know I might be nicknamed the Raven,’ she says, hardly having to raise her voice in the stillness of the night, ‘but I can’t actually fly.’

She hears the softest whispers of movement, feels a change in the air and turns just in time to see Bernie land lightly on the snow that’s drifted at the base of the corner where the outer courtyard wall meets a tower.

‘Just needed to escape for a while,’ she murmurs, breath pluming between them.

‘Think you can bear to come back inside to dance with me?’

‘Only if you promise to protect me from having to make small talk,’ Bernie says, only half teasing.

‘I promise,’ Serena says seriously. ‘You know I’ve always got your back.’

‘And I’ve always got yours,’ Bernie smiles, reaching for her with chilled fingers.

Serena allows herself to be drawn close, leans to meet Bernie’s lips halfway and lingers there, until the wind shifts and blows a gust of snow into them.

‘Inside,’ she says firmly, tugging Bernie after her.

She doesn’t let go of Bernie’s hand until they step back into the hall and onto the dance floor, and then only so she can lay it on Bernie’s shoulder. Doesn’t move from Bernie’s arms for the rest of the night, stays in them as they dance and then, when they’ve seen Hogswatch in and the party is over, as they tumble into bed together.


	3. the nights are colder now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in my [Bletchley Park AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9697037/chapters/21962105#workskin). Prompt: frost. The first frost of the winter signals the start of the real cold, of feeling cold all the time, of Bernie’s injuries stiffening. The only thing that really helps is the warmth of Serena’s body pressed to hers.

Late November, and they wake to the first frost of the winter. Bernie felt it approaching, felt the encroaching cold seeping into her muscles and bones, but when she tries to get out of bed the stiffness in her leg and spine still surprises her. She’s grateful for Serena’s arm, instantly offered, leans on it as she pushes herself upright, marvels at the fact that she’s so willing to do so when a year ago the thought of showing the slightest sign of weakness was anathema to her.

She’s cold all day. On the walk to work, even in her thickest jumper and coat, even with Serena’s arm through hers and Serena pressed against her side. Sitting in the hut, even with the hot water bottle Serena keeps in her desk for her stiffest, achiest days. On her smoke breaks, however much she tries to focus on the glowing end of her cigarette and imagine the same glow sitting deep in her chest with each inhale. Eating dinner with the Hills in the kitchen, even though her seat is closest to the fire.

Until they climb back into bed together. Serena ushers her in first, takes all the blankets from the other bed – the one they still pretend Bernie sleeps in, even though it’s been unoccupied since the first time they kissed – and spreads them on top of her own.

It isn’t the blankets that warm her, though. The only warmth that reaches right into her bones is Serena’s, her head on Bernie’s chest, her limbs draped across Bernie’s body, her breath ghosting across Bernie’s collarbones.


	4. snow gently covers the ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in my Jane Austen/Regency AU. Prompt: snow.

Jason gets up from his desk and crosses the library to retrieve another book from the shelf beside the window. He looks outside, sees his Aunt Serena and Berenice walking arm in arm through the gardens of Lethbridge House, leaving a trail of footprints in the blanket of snow. They had asked if he would care to join them for a walk over breakfast, but Jason would far rather stay inside on such cold days, does not see the appeal in tramping through snow to end up with damp feet.

Even from here he can see the smile on his Aunt’s face. She’s much happier now than Jason has ever seen her, and Jason is happy too because Berenice has allowed him the run of her library as if it were his own – has told him that as far as she’s concerned, it’s just as much his as it is hers now. And she’s made sure he gets to eat the right things on the right days, every day – even though he knows her cook complained to begin with. His Aunt and Berenice have guests coming for dinner this evening. Jason will be joining them, because Reverend Hanssen always asks what he has been reading and always listens, however long his answer is, and always has something interesting to tell him about. But it’s Tuesday, so while the table will have a respectable amount of dishes on it, Jason will still have Welsh rarebit.

He glances outside one more time, sees that Aunt Serena has slipped her arm free from Berenice’s and dropped behind a little. As he watches, she stoops to scoop up a handful of snow, then throws it at Berenice’s back. He can’t hear Berenice’s honk of a laugh, but has heard it often enough to be able to imagine it. It’s most startling and disruptive when he’s trying to concentrate, but she’s conscientious most of the time so he doesn’t mind too much. And it always makes Aunt Serena smile.

Jason turns away from the window, his full attention back on selecting his next book. Outside, Serena brushes the snow from Berenice’s back, her hand lingering in a caress.


	5. all is calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in my [Pern dragonriders AU.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9697037/chapters/21988646#workskin) Prompt: peace.

The sound of the hardcore revellers still dancing and singing in the hall follows them most of the way back to their weyr. More than a little tipsy on the best Benden wine, Serena hums happily to herself as they get ready for bed, shedding the clothes and personas of Weyrwoman and Weyrleader until all that’s left is them: Serena and B’renice.

It’s warmer here than where Serena grew up. There, Midwinter was vicious, all ice and snow and biting wind, and she slept in layers of clothing under all the blankets they had. Here, all she needs is a nightdress and the same furs they use year round. Well, that and B’renice, of course.

Her weyrmate is already in bed by the time Serena is ready. She sends a soothing goodnight to Elliath, curled on the ledge just outside with Kellenth, then joins B’renice, settling in her favourite place, head on B’renice’s chest, B’renice’s arm around her.

‘I think they’ll be talking about that party for Turns,’ B’renice murmurs, dropping a kiss to Serena’s hair.

Serena thinks back on the food, the wine, the music and dancing, and hums in agreement before a yawn breaks free, nuzzles into B’renice and brushes a kiss to her collarbone.


	6. it's been a long hard year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in the [concerto for two](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737133/chapters/29046618) universe. Prompt: exhaustion. It's been a long term preparing for the carol concert, a long week of rehearsals and performances - but finally they get home.

Thanks to almost a week of torrential rain and the subsequent flooding and road closures, it takes more than twice as long as normal for them to get home on Friday afternoon.

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Bernie says, putting down her cello in the hall and heading straight for the kitchen.

Serena hears a series of thuds as Bernie puts down everything else she carried in from the car – she insisted Serena load as much as possible into her arms – and strips off her almost dripping coat and damp scarf. As she carries Bernie’s cello and her guitar into the study and puts them down beside the piano she yawns, the week finally starting to catch up with her now they’re home.

‘Go and sit down,’ Bernie calls over the sound of the kettle boiling. ‘And that’s an order.’

Serena smiles fondly and does as she’s told. The sofa feels so blissfully soft, and it’s so blissfully quiet after a day full of noise. She swears she only closes her eyes to blink, but when she opens them again it’s to find Bernie in front of her, just putting two steaming mugs down on the coffee table.

‘Come here,’ Bernie says softly, sitting beside her and holding out her arm.

Serena gladly shifts closer, sighing as Bernie’s arm settles around her shoulders.

‘Thank you for everything this week,’ Serena murmurs, reaching for Bernie’s hand. ‘This term – this year.’

‘Always,’ Bernie replies, pressing a kiss to Serena’s hair.

Serena lets her head fall to rest on Bernie’s shoulder, feels Bernie shift so she can rest her head on Serena’s, feels the heaviness in both their bodies, feels tiredness creeping through her veins.

_Oh well,_ Serena thinks, as her eyelids drift closed. _It’s not like we had any plans for the rest of the day._


	7. asleep on the hay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in my [Discworld witches AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9697037/chapters/21921713). Prompt: stable (a goat shed is close enough for me!).

Bernie steps through the cottage door to find the kitchen empty, the embers of the fire barely glowing. She hangs her cloak and hat on their pegs, notes the presence of Serena’s hat but the absence of her cloak where it ought to be.

There’s a soft chirrup from the pantry door and Bernie looks around to see the cat, follows it through the pantry and out into the goat shed. When she left this morning, Serena had been tending a sick goat after being up with it most of the night. Now, the goat looks considerably better, and Serena is fast asleep beside it.

For a moment Bernie considers rousing her and getting her up to bed, but she looks so peaceful and the shed is plenty warm enough. So instead she reaches for Serena’s cloak, abandoned on a pile of hay, and tucks it around her, brushes a kiss to her forehead and leaves her be to make a start on dinner. The cat curls up at her feet, and Bernie knows that if the smell of food doesn’t wake her, the cat will.


	8. without you to hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in my [newsreader/war correspondent AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15815205). Prompt: obsession. Christmas Eve, and Serena wakes alone. The scent of Bernie’s perfume has comforted her every other time she’s been away, but today it just makes her feel more alone.

Christmas Eve, and Serena wakes to a cold bed and the smell of Bernie. For just a moment, in that hazy liminal space between dreams and reality, she forgets that Bernie isn’t here, hasn’t just got up, isn’t just in the kitchen putting the coffee on. But she isn’t, isn’t even in the country. She’s in Lebanon, two thousand plus miles away. Serena thought she had got used to it, has missed Bernie every time she’s been away but managed just fine on emails and Skype calls and news reports, and knowing she was only away for weeks instead of months at a time.

It’s that it’s Christmas, Serena decides as she gets up, snagging Bernie’s hoodie from her side of the bed and wrapping it around herself like a hug. Christmas, when everything is sentimental and everyone is talking about family plans and travelling to be with the ones they love.

_Only five days to go,_ she reminds herself as she dresses for work, carefully spraying a handkerchief with Bernie’s perfume, raising it to her nose to smell it before folding it and putting it in her pocket.

Sitting in makeup that evening waiting for Essie, she takes it out and smells it again, conjuring Bernie’s presence in the room with her. It’s been a comfort all year, every time Bernie has been away, but tonight it brings tears springing to her eyes. Essie is kind enough not to mention it, but she offers a sympathetic glance in the mirror, squeezes Serena’s shoulder when she’s done.

‘You still on for lunch at ours tomorrow?’ Fletch checks when she walks into the studio.

‘As long as you’re sure I won’t be intruding?’

‘Not at all. Raf’s been preparing food for days already – I know there’s six of us in the house, but I think we’re gonna have enough for a medium sized army. And the kids’ll be over the moon to see you.’

‘Then I look forward to it,’ Serena smiles, ignoring the twist of her heart.

Because however much she loves her colleagues, however happy she is to be spending the day with them, however much she had assured Bernie that it was fine for her to be away over Christmas and that they could have their own Christmas later – however much it _was_ fine at the time – if she could have one Christmas wish it would be for Bernie to be waiting for her when she gets home tonight, for them to be able to spend tomorrow together.

‘Two minutes,’ comes Fletch’s voice in her ear.

Serena sits down, allows herself one last, deep inhale of Bernie’s perfume, and settles her mask in place ready to read the headlines.


	9. two thousand miles is very far through the snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sequel to chapter eight. Prompt: magic. 10 o’clock on Christmas Eve, and while Father Christmas is out on his rounds, making wishes come true, Serena is on air, reading the night’s headlines like it’s any other night of the year. She doesn’t believe in Christmas magic – but tonight might just change that...

Bernie steps out of the cab, shivering as snowflakes blow into her face. It couldn’t be more different from where she was this morning: Beirut, a balmy 20 degrees and bright sunshine. But despite the cold, there’s nowhere she’d rather be this Christmas Eve.

Shouldering her bag, Bernie turns and heads inside Broadcasting House, heads in the general direction of the studio she knows Serena will be in, nodding to and exchanging greetings with several of the people she passes. She’s almost there when she passes a TV screen and sees the News at Ten titles, sits on the nearest seat as the camera switches to Serena behind the glass desk.

Bernie’s heart clenches at the sight of her. It’s over a month since she left London – left Serena – for a stint in Lebanon, the longest she’s been away since becoming Middle East editor. They’ve spoken on the phone, on Skype, on the news, seen each other on various screens. Now they’re in the same building, half an hour from seeing each other in person again. Not that Serena knows. Serena thinks Bernie is still in Beirut, thinks she’ll be there for the best part of another week, thinks they’ll both be alone for Christmas but get to see the New Year in together.

As Bernie gazes at the screen, drinking in Serena’s every word, she hopes her early return is going to be a nice surprise.

When Serena hands over to the local news teams, Bernie is already on her feet and moving. She slips into the studio, smiling to crew members she knows, looks around until she spots Serena talking to Fletch. Her breath catches in her throat when she sees her, gaze tracing her shoulders, her spine, her waist. She doesn’t notice when Fletch sees her over Serena’s shoulder, can’t hear him telling Serena to turn around. But when Serena does turn, eyes scanning the room until they land on her, Bernie finds she can’t move, finds she’s frozen to the spot, heart racing with worry and anticipation.

Serena seems rooted to the floor too – until Fletch nudges her shoulder and breaks the spell, and she slowly crosses the room until she’s standing in front of Bernie.

‘But you’re in Beirut,’ she says, disbelieving.

‘I was,’ Bernie corrects her, forcing her hands to stay by her side when she’s itching to reach for Serena. ‘I missed you. I wanted to spend Christmas with you.’

Serena says nothing, just stares at her, and Bernie begins to think this was a bad idea. ‘You’re really here,’ she murmurs eventually, raising one hand to hover between them.

‘I am,’ Bernie says, finally touching her, their fingers sliding together automatically.

And then, all of a sudden, Serena is pressed against her, and Bernie wraps her arms around her tightly, the silk of her blouse cold under Bernie’s palms.

‘I’ve missed you too, darling,’ Serena whispers as Bernie breathes her in and holds her a little tighter, refreshing her memory of how Serena feels, the warmth and solidity and realness of her after weeks of having to imagine it.


	10. poor as i am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in my [Bramwell-inspired Victorian doctors AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9697037/chapters/21886751). Prompt: Scrooge.

‘Tight fisted Scrooges, the lot of them!’ Serena exclaims as she opens and scans another letter.

‘Who is it this time?’ Bernie asks, from where she’s taking an inventory of their medicine cabinet.

‘Sir Tristan Wood,’ Serena replies with distaste. ‘They all have money to spare, enough that they wouldn’t miss a little more, but will they fund an expansion?’

Because the Thrift has been going from strength to strength and they’re operating at full capacity, all of their beds full almost all of the time, all of them working extra hours to try and treat all of their patients. The building across the street from the hospital is up for sale, but they don’t have enough money to buy it, let alone renovate or staff it – hence Serena has written to all of their donors and benefactors, with only limited success.

‘And in the season of goodwill to all men as well,’ Serena mutters, rubbing her eyes.

‘They wouldn’t know goodwill if it hit them in the face,’ Bernie says, leaving her inventory to lay a hand on her wife’s shoulder.

‘Very true,’ Serena smiles, and then sighs.

‘So what are our options, Doctor Campbell?’

‘Either we struggle on as we are, or we find ourselves some new donors.’

‘We can’t go on like this for much longer. We don’t have the space, or enough hours in the day. And you can’t keep working so hard for much longer, love,’ she adds, squeezing Serena’s shoulder gently.

‘They need us, Bernie,’ Serena says quietly.

‘I know,’ Bernie replies. ‘Why don’t we look at our address books this evening, see if we can pull together a guest list between us and have a soiree?’

Serena looks up, a frown creasing her brow. ‘Are you sure, darling? I know how much you hate that sort of thing.’

‘I’m sure,’ Bernie says with a soft smile. ‘Their need is far greater than my discomfort.’


	11. inside of this night, it's easier to believe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in my Harry Potter AU, a continuation of day one (to be further continued later). Prompt: comfort.

The feast is mostly over now. None of them – not even Bernie – can contemplate even one more mouthful of food, and most of the students have drifted out of the Great Hall to common rooms or into the snowy grounds. They leave Harry with Hagrid, who seems unlikely to let him go until it’s time for them to take him home, wrap up and head in the direction of the courtyard to walk off some of the food. But before they reach the main doors, they hear someone crying. Bernie still remembers all the alcoves and hiding places here, gestures towards the most likely spot. Serena quietly walks over, to her surprise finds not a tiny first year but a prefect sobbing into her robes. They exchange a glance, and while Bernie loiters near the bottom of the stairs, Serena sits beside the girl, pulls a clean handkerchief from her pocket and offers it to her.

Bernie’s too far away to hear what they’re saying, can just hear the familiar tone of Serena’s voice, low and soothing, watches as the girl’s sobs ease, as Serena holds out an arm and hugs her long and tight.

It’s only once the girl has gone outside and the front door has firmly closed behind her that Serena sobs. Bernie is beside her in an instant, one hand sliding along her shoulders, wrapping her in close as Serena buries her face in Bernie’s chest.

‘She’s lost everyone except her grandmother and two cousins,’ Serena tells her, words muffled by Bernie’s robes. ‘They’re all she has left. How many, Bernie? How many did this war kill? How many are left–’

Her voice breaks with another sob, and Bernie holds her even tighter, nuzzles into her hair and presses a kiss there.

‘Too many,’ Bernie replies. ‘But we have each other – we _all_ have each other. We’ll be alright.’

‘Do you really think so?’ Serena asks, so small and heartbroken that Bernie’s chest aches.

‘I do,’ Bernie says firmly. ‘I have to.’

She coaxes Serena to stand up, leads her over to the big oak front doors and pulls one open.

‘Look,’ she says, pointing out across the courtyard to where staff, students and guests alike are gathered in the snow, working together to build a crowd of snowmen, smiles and laughter banishing their pain and grief for now, at least.

‘We have to hold onto this,’ Bernie murmurs. ‘When it gets tough, we have to remember what we can be together.’


	12. my voice a beacon in the night, my words will be your light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in my [Bletchley AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9697037/chapters/21962105#workskin), with a certain amount of theft from The Bletchley Circle (S01,E01). Prompt: lighthouse.

‘Diederich,’ Bernie mutters as she stands just outside the hut in the rapidly darkening evening on an unofficial smoke break, musing over the Ultra intercepts they’ve been working on. ‘Diederich.’

And then something slots into place. She throws the end of her cigarette to the ground and hurries back inside, catching Serena’s eye on the way to her desk.

‘Arthur?’ she calls. ‘Oberleutnant Dieter von Diederich – any other assignments? I know I’ve seen him somewhere before.’

Arthur begins to reel off a list of reassignments, the same Oberleutnant being moved from division to division, town to town.

‘He’s been transferred from infantry to tanks and back again,’ Serena says, frowning.

‘Which is as daft as someone leading the showjumping because they’re good at hockey,’ Bernie adds, drawing a wry smile from Serena. ‘We couldn’t work out why they were using Ultra encryption for personnel reassignments.’

‘Go on,’ Serena prompts, recognising the glint in Bernie’s eye.

‘I don’t think he exists. I think it’s a code within the cipher,’ she explains.

‘Code for battle orders, you mean?’ Serena asks.

‘Perhaps,’ Bernie says with a little shrug, holding Serena’s gaze.

‘Take it to the house.’

‘Are you sure?’ Bernie frowns.

‘You think it’s real, don’t you – you don’t think it’s a coincidence?’

‘It’s real.’

‘Off you go, then,’ Serena says, touching Bernie’s elbow lightly. ‘I trust you,’ she adds quietly.

By the end of their shift, Bernie still isn’t back. Serena sends the others off to their digs, lingers a little to talk to Jean as her team gets to work, tells her about Bernie’s hunch and is gratified when Jean nods her approval, when she tells her girls to keep an eye out for anything similar even though it hasn’t been confirmed by the house yet. And then, reluctantly, she heads home, because her eyelids are growing heavy and her mind slowing down from the long day – the long week – they’ve had. She takes her time, though, putting on her coat and scarf, pulling on her gloves – but still there’s no sign of Bernie.

Outside it’s foggy, thick enough that Serena can barely see, but her feet know the way well enough. She’s just passing the house, she judges, when she hears a door open and closed, strangely muffled by the dense fog, stops and hears familiar footsteps, a familiar slight unevenness of gait.

‘Bernie?’ she calls softly.

‘Serena!’ Bernie replies, surprised. ‘Where are you?’

‘Just past the door, heading for home. I was starting to worry you’d be court-martialled and shot, you were taking so long,’ she teases as the footsteps come closer.

‘Not that easy to get rid of me,’ Bernie retorts. ‘Reach out your hand?’

Serena does so, feels the lightest brush of fingers against her own and grasps them, drawing Bernie to her side. ‘So?’ she murmurs, barely above a whisper.

‘We were right,’ Bernie replies, just as softly. ‘It’s a troop deployment code. So now we know where the German Army’s going to be in three days.’

‘Well done you,’ Serena smiles, squeezing Bernie’s hand.

‘You know the map they have in there, the one with the markers for the armies? Those troops are all on the move now because of us.’

There’s a sense of wonder in Bernie’s voice, that she’s just made such a difference when they’re so far from the front line and the enemy, that her words are even now guiding countless men to the right positions.

‘I think this calls for a celebration,’ Serena says, starting towards home again, her hand still firmly clasping Bernie’s.

‘I still have a couple of squares of chocolate left,’ Bernie offers.

‘Not quite what I had in mind, darling,’ Serena says, her voice low.

‘Then what?’

Serena stops again, listens carefully and, hearing no voices or footsteps, safely hidden by the dark and the fog, brushes a lingering kiss to Bernie’s lips.


	13. silver and gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in my Bramwell-inspired, Victorian doctors AU, a continuation of day ten. Prompt: glasses.

A fortnight later, and they’ve both used all their contacts to gather a roomful of people in their house for dinner and drinks.

_Our house,_ Bernie thinks, sitting by the fire with a glass of whisky as Serena slowly works her way around the room, charming each and every guest as they sip their after dinner drinks, her voice low beneath the chatter and chinking of glasses, the occasional laugh floating above it.

Bernie has done her part too, of course. For all that she hates it, they both know that the presence of the apparently male Dr Wolfe at the Thrift has given it a new edge of respectability, even if it’s tempered a little by the fact that Serena is continuing to work after remarrying. If questioned Bernie is never less than fully supportive of her wife, never rises to the bait, always smiles at being called progressive even though it rankles.

‘Quite the woman,’ says the man sitting beside her – Bernie has already forgotten his name.

‘I’m very lucky,’ she replies, eyes on Serena as she picks up a fresh glass of champagne.

‘Very sporting of you, to allow her to keep up her interest in medicine.’

Bernie forces herself to smile, forces herself to reply civilly, because while she can’t remember his name, she does remember how much money he has. ‘It’s not just an interest for her, it’s a passion – as it is for me. She’s a talented doctor, any hospital would be lucky to employ her.’

The man blusters away but Bernie maintains only enough interest in his words to be polite, instead sips her whisky and watches her wife across the room, wonders just how much they’ve managed to raise tonight, if it’s going to be enough or if they’re going to have to do this all over again next month as well.

‘If they all keep their promises,’ Serena says when they finally close the front door behind the last guests, ‘then our coffers will look a lot healthier than they have in a long time.’

Bernie smiles, reaches for Serena and draws her into a tight embrace. ‘Silver tongued charmer,’ she says fondly.


	14. on [Hogswatch] day in the morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in my Discworld assassins AU, a continuation of day two. Prompt: shivering.

Hogswatch morning, and Serena wakes alone. The bed beside her is cold, and so is the room, one chilled by the lack of Bernie and the other by a draft coming from the barely open window.

Serena rises, shivering as she wraps herself in her robe – an early Hogswatch gift from Bernie, black silk embroidered with glittering threads in all the colours found in a raven’s wing – and crosses to the window. The city is blanketed in snow, and this early it’s still pure white, hasn’t yet been trampled into the muddy grey-brown slush Serena associates with winters in Ankh-Morpork. There’s no sign of Bernie, not even when she crouches a little to look as high as she can out of the very top corner of the window.

With a sigh Serena hauls the sash open properly, bites back a curse at how cold it is, and sits on the windowsill, leaning out as far as she dares. She can just see the rooftop from here, dark tiles stark against the snow-laden clouds.

But no sign of Bernie.

Serena slips back inside, pulls down the window to where it was before – just open enough that Bernie’s fingertips will catch at the underside of the wood, just open enough that she’ll be able to get back in easily. She sheds her now icy cold robe, slides into bed and pulls the covers tightly around her naked body, shivers abating as she warms again.


	15. as red as any blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in my [Bletchley AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9697037/chapters/21962105#workskin), and to be continued. Prompt: holly.

In the week before Christmas, Serena finds a handwritten invitation carefully placed in the middle of her desk, where it’s impossible for her to miss it.

‘We’re all invited to a dance on Christmas Eve,’ she announces to her team. ‘Well, us girls are anyway – apologies to Raf and Arthur. Details here,’ she adds, waving the piece of paper at them. ‘It’s being organised by Millie Harcourt, so if you’ve any questions or anything to contribute for decorations or refreshments then speak to her.’

‘Would you like to go?’ Bernie asks a little later in their shift, gaze landing on the invitation as she’s handing over her latest decrypts.

‘Would you?’ Serena asks, fingers lingering on Bernie’s as the sheaf of paper passes between them.

‘I’m not much of a dancer,’ Bernie replies quietly, so as not to be heard above the low-level chatter of the hut at work. ‘But I’d dance with you all night.’

Serena holds her gaze a moment, then has to look away. ‘I’d like that.’

They have the morning before Christmas Eve off. Serena sits in the warm kitchen working her way through a pile of darning, while a batch of mince pies, made with apples from the Hills’ garden and bottled blackberries gathered from the hedgerows on autumn walks, bakes. Bernie, meanwhile, is pottering around in the garden, will no doubt come in starving, something Serena has already anticipated: she’s made enough pies for the dance _and_ some left over, for a hungry Bernie and for the Hills.

Bernie comes back in with an armful of holly cut from the hedge at the bottom of the garden just as Serena is pulling the trays from the oven.

‘For the dance,’ Bernie explains as she puts it down just inside the back door. ‘Smells good.’

‘How do you always know when food is ready?’ Serena asks with mock exasperation. And then she turns around, and sees that Bernie also has a handful of tiny, pinprick cuts and narrow scratches, the blood beading crimson against her pale skin.

‘Silly woman,’ Serena scolds her, pushing her down into a chair. ‘Didn’t think gloves might be a good idea when handling a plant known for being prickly?’

‘Didn’t want to ruin them,’ Bernie says ruefully.

‘I’d rather you ruined the gloves than your hands,’ Serena says, the sharpness dropping from her voice as she gently takes Bernie’s hand in hers to clean it up. When she’s finished, she presses a gentle kiss to Bernie’s palm. ‘And for being an uncomplaining patient,’ she says, reaching for a pie. ‘Just don’t burn yourself as well.’

‘If I do, will you kiss that better too?’

‘Not after having warned you,’ Serena retorts – but they both know that she will.


	16. dressed in holiday style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in the concerto for two AU, to be continued. Prompt: decorating.

The Saturday before the carol concert somehow arrives, December speeding away from them all too fast. They’ve already decorated the tree, the three of them sharing the same stories all over again with each ornament they hung – the felt star, the wooden penguin, the glass baubles and treasured clown – with the same cheesy music on in the background, the scent of pine filling the air. They’ve moved the piano too, and Jason has carefully polished the fingerprints out of the lacquer to make it shine.

Serena is at work on the rest of the house, an abundance of tinsel and lights and sprigs of holly turning the rooms into magical grottoes ready for their friends. She twines tinsel and a string of lights together, lays them across the top of the piano, drapes strands over all the picture frames, tucks holly along the mantelpiece. It should look too much, but somehow it’s perfect.

Bernie, meanwhile, is in the kitchen. Yesterday evening when they got in from school, she melted goodness knows how many bars of chocolate and poured it into moulds with only a minimal amount of spillage and mess. Now she turns each piece out, carefully pipes yet more melted chocolate in delicate swirls, adds glitter and sprinkles and silver dragées so everything sparkles.

‘Serena?’ she calls into the next room. ‘Any chance of a hand?’

‘One moment, love,’ Serena replies, finding a length of tinsel for the last picture frame. ‘Oh, look at you,’ she scolds fondly when she walks into the kitchen.

‘What?’ Bernie frowns.

Serena gently wipes a smear of chocolate from Bernie’s cheek, tuts when she sees some in her fringe, on the collar of her shirt. ‘Can’t take some people anywhere,’ she murmurs. ‘Now, what did you need me for?’

‘Could you hold them steady while I glue?’ Bernie asks, gesturing to the decorated pieces on the counter with the piping bag in her hand.

‘Seeing as you asked so nicely,’ Serena teases, brushing a kiss to Bernie’s cheek.


	17. the sweetest buns and candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in the concerto for two AU, a continuation of the previous chapter. Prompt: sleigh.

Bernie’s handiwork takes pride of place on the laden kitchen table. A miniature sleigh and two tiny reindeer, perfectly moulded in shiny chocolate and intricately decorated, the sleigh loaded with brightly wrapped sweets. A shortbread tree and presents complete the scene, along with a liberal dusting of icing sugar snow covering the cake board.

‘Almost seems a shame to eat it,’ Serena says as she surveys the spread, making sure she hasn’t forgotten anything.

‘Almost,’ Bernie agrees. ‘Although that is why I made it.’

‘True. Better get a photo of it before the hordes descend, then,’ Serena says, grabbing her phone from the worktop. ‘Charlie won’t forgive either of us if your followers don’t get to see this.’

Because after months of nagging, Bernie has finally let Charlie set up an Instagram account for her, for her baking.

‘As if I don’t have enough to do,’ Bernie had grumbled good-naturedly at the time.

But she has to admit it is at least a little bit fun – and the rest of the department certainly haven’t complained that the goodies she brings in are always beautifully decorated. Photos of this winter scene, along with the ubiquitous mince pies and the gingerbread tree decorations that have become another tradition (the ones she’s decorated herself, that is – not the ones the kids will decorate later) will get her feed through the remaining time until Christmas.

Later – much later – when everyone has gone and the house is quiet again, Serena takes another photo of the aftermath. All that’s left on the cake board is icing sugar, and a few smears of chocolate.

‘Before and after shots,’ she explains when Bernie asks what she’s doing. ‘Don’t people want to know that your food tastes even better than it looks, that there’s never so much as a crumb left?’


	18. all anguish, pain and sadness leave your heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in the [shut up and dance with me ballroom dancing AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10055291/chapters/22404941). Prompt: laughter.

Drained and dejected, Bernie pulls into the car park and finds a space. She sits for a moment with the engine off, tries to put the day behind her but can’t.

A trauma call: a bad farm accident, one of the worst injuries she’s seen outside of a war zone. The man – barely more than a boy, really – will live, but even all Bernie’s skill and experience couldn’t save his mangled leg, and she doesn’t know what that will mean for his livelihood, his family, his future. She doesn’t really feel like dancing, would prefer just to curl up with Serena and a whisky – would prefer just to stew, however unhealthy that might be. But Serena is here, waiting for her, waiting to lead her around the floor, to carry her until she can carry herself again.

Bernie gets out of the car with a heavy sigh, drags her feet all the way to the hall. She’s barely taken one step inside, hasn’t even had chance to look around the room to see who’s there tonight – to see where Serena is – when she hears a familiar laugh above the music and the conversation.

_Serena_.

Something inside Bernie settles instantly, the wrongs of the day suddenly starting to right themselves. Her gaze lands on Serena, in Neil’s arms, linger as they turn. The moment Serena’s eyes catch hers Bernie feels her shoulders drop, feels some of the weight of failure lift from her. She even manages a small smile in response to Serena’s.

‘Come on, darling,’ Serena says when the music changes and Neil walks her off the floor. ‘Let me make it better.’

‘You already have,’ Bernie replies – but she slips her hand into Serena’s and allows herself to be taken into hold anyway.

Serena’s body is warm and soft, her hold strong and secure.

‘I’ve got you, darling,’ Serena murmurs, her breath stirring Bernie’s hair. ‘I’ve always got you.’


	19. to hear the angels sing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in the concerto for two AU. Prompt: angel.

It’s December now, and the orchestra is starting to sound – well, not _terrible_ , at least, and quite good in parts of some carols. This week they’re crammed into one of the music classrooms, tables pushed back to the walls, so one of them can put in the piano parts, in the hope that this will keep the kids in time, that it will help keep the tempo steady instead of everything gradually dragging into dirges no matter the speed they start at, no matter how much whoever is conducting tries to stop it.

They’ve decided Serena will play in _It Came Upon the Midnight Clear_ , so Bernie leaves their single student cellist to hold his own and opens the score. With the piano behind her she can’t see Serena but knows Serena can see her hands, knows that’s enough – much as she likes to be able to catch her eye. She beats the time, indicates the anacrusis, hears Serena start playing in perfect time as the woodwind section play their eight bar introduction – with most of the right notes.

The first verse is scored for unaccompanied SATB choir. They agreed that Serena would play the choir parts for now, so the orchestra know what it will sound like, so they get used to counting their bars of rest. But as well as playing, Serena begins to sing the melody line, her voice pure, every syllable and word end precisely in place. Surprised, Bernie can’t help turning around to glance at Serena over her shoulder. She can hear the moment their eyes meet, can hear the smile infuse Serena’s voice with joy, and feels her heart rise.


	20. flowers and pearls and pretty girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in my Bletchley AU, a continuation of day fifteen. Prompt: safe.

Christmas Eve sees them working a difficult, frustrating shift that seems even longer than it really is. They walk home together in the gloaming in silence, sit at the kitchen table and eat steaming bowls of the soup Mrs Hill has left on the stove for them while she’s out at a friend’s.

‘If you don’t want to go tonight,’ Serena begins.

‘I don’t,’ Bernie says. ‘Not really, not after the shift we’ve had. But I do want to dance with you,’ she adds, reaching across the table for Serena’s hand.

‘We don’t have to stay long.’

‘Long enough that you’ll let me eat another of your pies?’

‘Is food all you ever think about?’ Serena teases.

‘Not all,’ Bernie replies with a wink. She stands up and gathers their dishes to wash, leans to brush a lingering kiss to Serena’s lips. ‘Go on, go and get ready while I clear up.’

*

The party is already in full swing when they arrive. Bernie has only changed her blouse for something a little smarter and run a brush through her hair, but Serena has put on a tea dress in deep red with flowers embroidered along the hem that swirls around her knees and a string of pearls inherited from her grandmother, had to redo her lipstick after Bernie saw her. They hand off their contributions – Serena’s mince pies and Bernie’s holly – to Millie when she greets them, ushering them into the room in a whirl of expensive perfume and cigarette smoke.

‘There really are no men here,’ Bernie murmurs as they make their way towards where Morven and Jasmine are sitting with some of the other Hut Four girls.

Serena follows her gaze to the impromptu dance floor, where plenty of girls are already dancing together, and changes direction, tugging Bernie after her.

‘You wanted to dance with me,’ she says in reply to Bernie’s questioning look.

‘I didn’t necessarily mean immediately,’ Bernie says, but it’s not really a protest.

They’re cautious to start with, but as the night progresses everyone is dancing closer together. And then someone puts a slow song on the gramophone. Morven and Jasmine have their arms around each other, laughing as Jasmine tries to lead them around the room, completely out of keeping with the music. Millie and Susan Havers are swaying, the sides of their heads resting together. Serena glances around them, sees the same things everywhere – guesses that most of the women dancing together are just friends, but who’s to know they’re any different?

So she draws Bernie closer to her, arm slipping further around her waist, lips just inches from Bernie’s ear.

‘I love you, you know,’ she murmurs beneath the music and conversation. ‘And I wish it could always be like this, wish we could always be as close as we want to be.’

Bernie’s fingers tighten around hers. ‘So I do.’

‘But we have tonight,’ Serena smiles. ‘Hidden in plain sight. Please don’t let go.’

‘I won’t,’ Bernie promises, thumb stroking along Serena’s. ‘Not all night.’


	21. give my heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in the concerto for two AU. References [ from advent 2018. Prompt: giving.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16816498/chapters/40342442)

They get married in the summer, because neither of them can even begin to countenance adding anything more to any point within the school year. Serena wears her treasured plastic cracker ring on the finger next to her real engagement ring, amber and diamonds set in silver, delicate enough not to get in the way whatever instrument she’s playing. Bernie’s already wide smile becomes even wider when she sees it, when she touches the ‘diamond’ and remembers that heartstopping moment, remembers the first time the word ‘wife’ fell from Serena’s lips.

Remembers finding the perfect ring, opening the box and placing it beside the cheap plastic one, remembers sitting on the edge of the bed, nervously waiting for Serena to come out of the bathroom and put her earrings away.

Remembers the moment Serena spotted the addition to her jewellery box, remembers seeing her freeze, hearing the breath catch in her throat.

‘Classy enough for you?’ she had asked, nervous even though they’d already spoken about it, even though she already knew Serena’s answer.

She slid that ring onto Serena’s finger with trembling hands. But now her hands are steady, and so are Serena’s – steady as they are in every concert they do together.

‘For eternity,’ they say together, gazing into each others’ eyes, and seal it with a kiss.


End file.
